Catch as Catch Can (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 1), Malcolm Hollingdrake [best large ereader .TXT] 📗

then swung the detector to the right and bingo. Instead of treasure …’ He pulled a face. ‘… Story of my bloody life, love.’

April quickly took another photograph before she produced a plastic evidence bag from her pocket and dropped in the medal before sealing the top.

‘Sorry, evidence. You may get it back in time. Are you sure there was nothing else?’

Radcliffe shook his head. ‘No. Just bottle tops. You want them too?’

His disappointment at losing the medal was evident in his tone. On standing April heard him chuckle. She paused. ‘Something else?’

‘Your name, love, and that man in the sand brought to mind something my old dad used to say when he’d had one too many.’

‘And what was that?’

‘“Carry me home and bury me decent.” Maybe not as funny out loud. Sorry.’

As she left the shelter of the windbreak, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘My dad said that too.’

She walked back to the taped area. Members of the public had started to congregate by the police vehicle but none had moved nearer. A pop-up tent was now covering the scene where the body had been located. It swayed in the breeze as the CSI team worked within. After handing the bagged medal to the white-suited figure, she looked up and down the expanse of beach. Bradshaw approached her.

‘How’s he ended up here of all places?’ he asked, rubbing his hands together before thrusting them back into his pockets. Immediately he started to answer his own question. ‘I see three possibilities, ma’am. One, he was brought here dead, maybe on a quad bike as they sure didn’t carry him. A quad would get you over the dunes and along this beach. Two, he came from there.’ He pointed to the sea. ‘Dumped overboard from some kind of boat or ship. And then three, he walked here believing he was in the company of friends and he was wrong.’

April smiled and nodded. ‘Good, that’s good. And if you could only choose one?’

‘Considering the chain, for me at this stage in the investigation, he came from Davy Jones’ Locker.’

April rested her hand on his shoulder. ‘Possibly correct but let’s keep an open mind.’

She heard her old boss in her head. It was at this moment that she finally realised the true value of the lessons he had taught her and this knowledge brought a sense of contentment and a smile to her lips. Maybe this position was right for her after all. It reminded her of another of his sayings.

‘Remember, dead men can still tell tales. It was a lesson my first boss told me and I’ve never forgotten it.’

‘Suppose you just have to learn how to listen.’

April smiled. ‘True.’ She turned and scanned the beach as they walked. ‘It’s certainly a beautiful place, remote and not easily accessed with the dead weight that comes with a body. You may well be right. Interestingly, the treasure hunter discovered a medal. He didn’t know how old it was nor in fact what it was but I believe I might know. We’ll walk back to the car, Pete, and we can chat as we walk.’

‘Ma’am, I’ve always been known as Brad since I’ve been in the force and I’d be grateful if you’d call me that.’

April nodded. ‘As I was saying, Brad.’

Chapter 5

Contemplating the events of the previous day, April looked out of the upper room window of Copy Lane Police Station, the current hub of Liverpool CID.

The view from April’s window was neither inspiring nor interesting but it allowed her a few minutes to consider what she had witnessed on the sands the previous day. Suddenly, a paper dart flew over her left shoulder and collided with the window, blunting its nose before falling to her feet. It was quickly followed by an apology.

‘Sorry, meant for Brad!’

Looking round April noticed the grinning face and then the eyes peering over the screen of a computer.

‘Never could get the bloody things to fly straight. Make a shit pilot, me.’

April did not allow herself to make the same mistake twice and quickly moved across to the far side of the room.

‘April Decent. I saw you a few days ago. You’re the new DI,’ Skeeter said, noticing that April stared directly at her left eye. She smiled moving her hand to her face. ‘Makes people forget pleasantries, too focused on one blue and one black. They never know where to look, like you. I might also get the words, David Bowie ...’

‘Heterochromia iridum,’ April replied, trying to move her focus.

Skeeter raised her eyebrows. ‘No flies on you, April Decent, but then I’d heard that. Mind, you rarely get such a contrast, ice blue against nearly black. Some people, can you believe, think I’ve got a glass eye! Anyway, pleased to eventually speak. Thought you were avoiding me. DS Skeeter Warlock.’ April smiled warmly waiting for the punchline but one did not follow.

‘I seem to stop people in their tracks. If it’s not my eyes, it’s my name. Bane of my bloody life if I’m honest. Always been known as Witch.’ She lifted her shoulders in resignation. ‘All through school since I was a nipper and then during my time as a beat copper. What I do know is my eyes frighten some crooks shitless, especially foreign ones. The evil eye and all that.’ She grinned before standing and holding out her hand.

April was initially taken aback by Skeeter’s height and build. She assessed her to be no more than five feet five but she could see that she was extremely fit. She also noticed her hair was tightly plaited and there was damage to her left ear. The swelling was definitely what was unfortunately referred to as a cauliflower ear. It gave her an impish and yet thuggish demeanour.

‘I see why the name Witch has played a key part in your life but Warlock and Skeeter?’

Skeeter explained. ‘When you live in a city where they once had an Archbishop named Worlock you find people are